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These Arms of Mine
Judy Lynn Hubbard


When Alesha Robinson ended her torrid affair with Derrick Chandler, she gave up the love of her life. Now fate's giving them a second chance. But when Alesha asks Derrick to save her brother, she never dreams what the scorned multimillionaire will demand in exchange: becoming his wife–in name only.Even after Alesha shattered his trust, Derrick never stopped loving her. His strings-attached proposition was supposed to be strictly business: revenge for her cruel betrayal as he rebuilds his public image. Until desire reignites–hotter than ever.As the ex-lovers give in to their passion, a marriage of convenience is about to become inconvenient. And Derrick realizes just how far he'll go to keep Alesha in his bed, in his arms, in his heart–forever.







Passion brought them together. Will betrayal tear them apart?

When Alesha Robinson ended her torrid affair with Derrick Chandler, she gave up the love of her life. Now fate’s giving them a second chance. But when Alesha asks Derrick to save her brother, she never dreams what the scorned multimillionaire will demand in exchange: becoming his wife—in name only.

Even after Alesha shattered his trust, Derrick never stopped loving her. His strings-attached proposition was supposed to be strictly business: revenge for her cruel betrayal as he rebuilds his public image. Until desire reignites—hotter than ever.

As the ex-lovers give in to their passion, a marriage of convenience is about to become inconvenient. And Derrick realizes just how far he’ll go to keep Alesha in his bed, in his arms, in his heart—forever.


“You’ll have to do better than this, or you won’t convince anyone that you’re madly in love with me.”

He lowered his head toward hers.

She continued to struggle in vain. His lips were mere inches from hers, and one hand remained around her waist, while the other moved to her hair. He released her silky tresses from their confining clasp, allowing the shoulder-length tendrils to slide over his fingers as he pulled her resisting mouth toward his. As he had known it would, her hair felt like silk against his fingers. His appreciative eyes swept her distraught face thoroughly.

“I prefer your hair loose, remember?”

“Mr. Ashton, I don’t care what you prefer.”

“Oh, but you will care.” Her voice caught in her throat at his softly voiced promise. “Call me Derrick.”

“No.” She strained against his ironclad embrace.

“You’ll say my name on moans of passion in just a few seconds.”

“Never.”

She knew her denial lacked believability because her voice was breathless and a strange feeling began forming in her suddenly churning stomach.

“We’ll see.”

Before she could acidly respond, determined lips closed over hers in a strong caress.


JUDY LYNN HUBBARD

is a native of Dallas, Texas, and has always been an avid reader—particularly of romance. Judy enjoys well-written, engaging stories with characters she can identify with and root for.

Judy has always loved the craft of writing, and her goal is to touch readers emotionally with her stories. She is thrilled to be releasing her first Kimani Romance novel.




These Arms of Mine

Judy Lynn Hubbard





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

I love it when two destined souls meet and fall in love—even if the road to happily-ever-after is a little rocky. After all, the journey is as important as the destination.

Meet Derrick Ashton, an alpha male who’s handsome, sensual, successful—and just a tad vindictive.

Alesha Robinson is beautiful, loyal and selfless and has been given a second chance at happiness, if she can undo the monumental damage her well-intentioned white lies has created.

Soon she’ll be a new bride, but can she convince Derrick to give her time to make the transition from his wife on paper to his wife in the bedroom? After all, she is an inexperienced virgin, but he won’t believe that—especially since she’s given him every reason to think just the opposite is true!

Buckle your seat belts!

Look for my next book, Our First Dance, in July 2012.

www.JudyLynnHubbard.com

Twitter: @JudyLynnHubbard

Facebook: Judy Lynn Hubbard


To my beloved sister, Carol. I wish you were here to see this day, but you’ll live forever in my heart.


Contents

Prologue (#u34852891-72db-55bd-81bc-a4e852e49382)

Chapter 1 (#u2bb316a9-324e-57f7-9804-52fbe030153e)

Chapter 2 (#u0de93f44-f30d-5cec-ab7d-ade4c6af25d2)

Chapter 3 (#ud8b24d91-9dc2-5bb8-ae24-9c561e9ca977)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue

Alesha Robinson took a deep breath and held it in for several long seconds before releasing it slowly. She continued the silent argument with herself to combat the foolhardiness of what she was about to do. She should turn around and go home. She started to do it—for the thousandth time, she started to do it—however, she kept walking, almost running toward her destination, as if she were eager for the impending meeting when nothing could be further from the truth.

Would he listen to her? Was there a chance in hell that he would understand and forgive her? Was she just fooling herself by thinking she could appeal to his good side? In the short time they had dated two years earlier, she had often been privy to his charm, wit and good humor. He had been a perfect gentleman, someone she had wanted to get to know better, but circumstances had not worked in their favor. For reasons he still was unaware of, she had abruptly ended their relationship without explanation. Would he hold that against her now?

He had a reputation of being fair and she knew firsthand that he was, or rather had been. But was she remembering a man from a lifetime ago? Did she dare hope that man still existed after the horrible way they had parted?

She mumbled a slight apology after nearly colliding with another pedestrian on the sidewalk, then continued on her way. She was almost there, and still she had no idea what she was going to say to him. She resolved to cross that bridge when she came to it and continued determinedly on her way to an unscheduled yet overdue meeting.

She pulled her light coat tighter around her as a biting blast of October wind forced its unwelcomed way in between the gaps of the coat’s loosely tied opening. Absent fingers brushed a stray strand of shoulder-length curly black hair, which had been loosened from its clasp by the teasing gust. What was she going to say? How should she begin? She rehearsed one scenario and then another, and another, yet she still had no idea what would come out of her mouth when she opened it.

Her hesitant feet suddenly stopped outside the forty-story building that was her destination. Craning her head, she glanced up the tall, foreboding black glass frame. She wondered, would the foe she must now face be as formidable and as unyielding? Lowering her eyes to the front door, she took another deep breath and exhaled it before walking through the double doors to face the fire, uncertain she could evade the scorching that was sure to come.


Chapter 1

Derrick Chandler stared in exasperation at the man sitting across from him. Why did campaign managers always have to try to change your life? He listened in annoyance as Cameron Stewart continued to tell him what he must do in order to win the Senate race, which he had recently entered.

He wondered why he hadn’t just stuck to corporate law instead of throwing his hat into the political arena. He decided the main reason was the city in which he resided—if you were a successful lawyer and lived in Washington, D.C., it seemed predestined that a foray into the world of politics would occur at some time or another.

Fingers absently tapped his chocolate-colored, clean-shaven chin impatiently and then brushed a piece of lint off the breast pocket of his immaculate navy blue suit. After Cameron talked until he was satisfied, then Derrick would have his say—the other man in the room would not be pleased with what he would hear. He disliked anyone telling him what he should and should not do, and Cam was treading on dangerous ground.

“Derrick, the simple fact is that you need a wife.” Cam succinctly summed up his ten-minute tirade.

Derrick bolted upright in his chair, his gray eyes growing hard and cold. His voice matched his angry countenance. “And you need a psychiatrist.”

Cam sighed audibly, not in the least put off by his friend’s frigid tone. “Just listen to me…”

“No, you listen to me.” Derrick held up a hand forestalling his friend’s words. “I tried the marriage scene once, and we both know what a fiasco that was.”

“Well, I told you before you married her…”

Derrick’s darkening eyes stopped Cam cold. “You’re treading on dangerous ground, Cameron.”

“I know, Derrick, but just hear me out.” He quickly continued before his friend could object, “You hired me to increase your chances of being elected and, whether you like it or not, I’ve got to tell you what I think.”

“Well, I don’t like it, but if you want to hear yourself talk, be my guest.”

He scratched his lightly bearded chin. “We’re doing great in all demographics except for women.”

Derrick frowned. “I thought our numbers looked pretty good there.”

“Pretty good, but if you had a woman in your life, one who could relate with and talk to other women, one on one, about their concerns, I have no doubt our numbers would double.”

“Wouldn’t a female member of my staff work?”

“Please!” Cam’s look of disgust elicited a chuckle. “Man, this is America—the land of opportunity, the home of apple pie and baseball.”

Derrick rolled his eyes. “This sure sounds like a commercial.”

“With the election a little over a year away, now is the perfect time for you to be seen as someone who has deep ties to the community, someone who has something in common with his constituents, someone who shares their dreams and hopes. The best way to identify with them is to be seen as a family man.”

“You’re not married.”

“I’m not running for public office, either.” Cam folded his arms across his chest. “You are and you need someone, and not just any woman—a wife. Just think about it, a built-in hostess for parties and a date ready and willing to go with you whenever and wherever. I know I’m getting through to you.” Cam carefully studied Derrick’s purposefully unreadable expression.

“Wouldn’t a German shepherd accomplish the same thing as a wife?” Derrick smiled slightly.

Cam closed his eyes in frustration before quickly opening them again. “Will you try to see my point of view?”

“No, you try to see mine. I am not going to marry anyone ever again!” He deliberately emphasized each word.

Cam opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again as a buzz sounded from the phone on the desk.

Derrick yanked up the handset impatiently. “Yes, what is it?”

He was more than a little annoyed—he had left instructions not to be disturbed.

“If she won’t tell you, then tell her I’m in conference and can’t be disturbed!”

He unceremoniously slammed the receiver back into its cradle. He made a mental note to apologize to Dorothy once Cameron left. He was in a foul mood, brought on by the other man’s ludicrous suggestion.

Cam was shaking his head disapprovingly. “People skills, Derrick. People skills!”

“What do I pay you for?” In spite of himself, he almost smiled at his friend’s dismayed tone.

“To tell you what others dare not.”

“Well, you certainly seem to enjoy that part of the job.” This time, a genuine smile tilted the corners of his frowning mouth.

“My mother always told me I love a challenge, and you certainly are that.” Cam picked up his briefcase and prepared to leave.

“Are we done?”

“Yes, we’re done. I’ll try to sell you on getting a wife later.”

“Oh, joy.” Derrick rose to shake his hand.

“Do you have anything else you need to talk to me about?”

“No, please go.” Derrick reclaimed his seat behind the desk.

“See you tonight at seven sharp.”

As Cam walked toward the door, Derrick grimaced at the thought of another political dinner/debate—he loved the debates, but he detested sitting around with strangers, making senseless small talk over steak or chicken that tasted like rubber and vegetables that had much in common with plastic.

“How could I forget?”

“Just be there, and on time.”

“Anything else, Mom?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. But I don’t have the strength to discuss it with you right now.” He ran a hand over his bald head. “I used to have hair before you and I became friends.”

“Later, Cameron.” Derrick’s sigh turned into a chuckle at the exasperated look he received before his friend left with a decisive click of the door.

Alone at last, he laughed out loud and ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. He enjoyed needling Cam, almost as much as he enjoyed his newfound career in politics. Best friends since law school, Derrick and Cam looked like brothers—each sharing the same dark coloring, height and build. They had been friendly rivals who had quickly developed a deep, lasting friendship.

Another chuckle escaped from his lips. Cam was right—Derrick could always count on him to say what others dared not to. He supposed that was one of the reasons he liked him so much. That and the fact that he had always been intensely loyal and dependable—two attributes Derrick valued greatly.

Picking up from his desktop a manila folder containing information on his running mate, he reclined in his plush black-leather chair as he began to leaf through the pages carefully, familiarizing himself with every detail—it was always best to know one’s opponent better than oneself.

Curious as raised voices wafted through the closed door to his assistant’s office, Derrick wondered what had prompted the argument. Seconds later, the door abruptly swung open to admit a woman he thought he would never see again—Alesha Robinson. Automatically, he stood and his icy eyes locked with her uneasy ones.

“It’s all right, Dorothy. I’ll see Miss Robinson.”

He broke eye contact and nodded curtly in his assistant’s direction. The woman glanced angrily at Alesha before firmly closing the door as she left.

He felt as if he had been punched hard in the gut, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Alesha Robinson was here, standing a few feet away from him, looking as beautiful as he remembered. Damn her! Damn himself for wanting to quickly close the distance between them, crush her in his arms and fuse his starving mouth with hers.

“What brings you to my door, Alesha?” He silently blessed his voice for sounding coolly controlled, when he felt anything but.

She looked lovelier than he remembered, dressed in a plain white sweater and black slacks. That silky light brown skin of hers begged to be caressed. His fingers itched to oblige. Her thick black hair was pulled back from her face, held in a clasp at her nape. He knew from experience that her hair was soft—softer than anything else this world had to offer. To keep from walking over to her he sat back down in his chair. His eyes then went to her left hand and he wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or angered that no engagement or wedding ring rested there.

He continued to survey her hungrily. His eyes drank in every aspect of her face, afraid she was a mirage he had to memorize before she quickly disappeared. He had sometimes wondered if the predicament her brother had gotten himself into would force them to see each other again. He couldn’t decide if he was glad or angry that outside pressure had precipitated her return to his life, instead of her own desire.

Her steps faltered as her eyes refamiliarized themselves with Derrick’s extremely handsome face—she had almost forgotten the effect the mere sight of him had on her. Since their first chance meeting when they had both stopped to help out at the scene of a multicar accident, he had done strange things to her equilibrium. Although currently his face was hard and foreboding, she remembered how his infectious smile could send her heart racing frantically. He sat before her after all this time like a statue—a beautiful bronze statue, she amended. She recalled how unbending his body had been against the yielding softness of hers—they had been the perfect complement for each other in so many ways. That is, until everything had fallen apart by her own hands.

Her stomach churned queasily and her heart began beating faster and louder in her ears as she stopped just in front of the mahogany desk behind which he sat. Her heart leaped in her chest, but was it from anxiety or happiness at seeing him again? Anxiety, definitely. She was here for business—to ask him for a monumental favor—and for no other reason.

“Mr. Chandler, I need to speak with you.” She was pleased with the steadiness of her precise and crisply articulated sentence.

“Why so formal, Alesha?”

“I’m here to discuss business, Mr. Chandler.”

She made her voice curt, hoping the tone would end his unnerving inspection of her, which was causing every nerve ending in her body to silently cry out for what she knew from experience was his masterful touch.

He had an almost irrepressible desire to trace his fingers down that silky skin of hers—it couldn’t possibly be as soft as he remembered. Yet, instinctively, he knew it was. And her full, faintly tinted brown lips—would kissing her still feel like exquisite torture? Pure heaven, that was how he remembered feeling with her in his arms, and he was sure that observation was still accurate.

She waited uneasily for him to say something, anything. He seemed content to just stare at her. Piercing eyes traveled leisurely over her. What was he thinking? Instinctively, she knew she didn’t want to know. Was he as disconcerted by seeing her again as she was at seeing him? She couldn’t tell—he seemed cold, almost frigid. She felt like fleeing. Why didn’t he say or do something?

“Mr. Chandler?”

“I’m busy.”

He was annoyed at himself for behaving like a moonstruck idiot. With great effort, he tore his eyes away from her lovely face and angrily picked up a piece of paper from his desk. It took all his self-restraint to totally ignore her.

She bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips at his callous actions. One thing she didn’t need was to put him on the defensive. She had come to him for help, after all—help that she really didn’t deserve.

“Surely you can spare me a few moments.” Her tone indicated she would accept nothing less.

He returned the paper to his desk and reluctantly looked at her once again. He mentally scolded himself as he felt his pulse rate increase as she ran her tongue over her upper lip.

“What do you want?”

She silently cursed him for asking a question he obviously knew the answer to. You might offer me a seat first, she silently fumed.

“I’m here about Robert.”

At the mention of her brother’s name, he closed the folder in front of him and motioned for her to be seated in the chair Cam had just vacated. She was painfully aware of the intense focus of his eyes and an emotion she dared not name hidden in their now-frigid depths.

“I was wondering when he would send you in to plead his case.” In fact, he had been counting on it.

Her spine stiffened in the soft leather chair and quickly contradicted him. “He didn’t. I came on my own to ask you not to press charges against him.”

He smiled slightly at that. “You must be as mad as your brother is if you think I’m going to allow him to embezzle $100,000 from my campaign fund and just walk away, free as a bird.”

“If you will just let me explain…” She squared her shoulders for a fight she had known was inevitable.

“There’s no explanation you have that I am interested in hearing. He took the money—that’s all I need to know.”

“Regardless, I’m going to tell you the reason my brother borrowed the money from you.”

His eyes narrowed at the slight edge evident in her tone. What did she have to be bent out of shape about? He was the one who had been wronged by her brother—and by her. What right did she have to treat him as the villain or even to be here asking anything of him?

“Borrowed? That’s an interesting choice of words. Go on. Tell me, why did your brother borrow the money?” He crossed his arms across his broad chest, drawing attention to his muscular physique.

She had the feeling she was wasting her time, but she had to try, for her family’s sake. Maybe he would be sympathetic once he learned why Robert had stolen from him. At least she prayed he would.

“Well?” he prompted. “Let me guess. He used it to bet on the ponies.” At her blank stare he tried again. “The slots? Sports? Cards?”

“I don’t approve of my brother’s actions.”

“Neither do I and I intend to make my disapproval a matter of public record by filing charges against him.” When she remained silent, he continued, “I don’t know what you hoped to accomplish by coming here.” Except to remind me of what you needlessly snatched away from me—from both of us—two years ago.

At this moment neither did she. “I thought I could make you understand.”

“Did your brother take my money?”

“Yes.” The single word was spoken through gritted teeth.

“Was it his money to take?” He continued in the same no-nonsense courtroom tone.

“You know it wasn’t!” She felt like a petulant child he was taking great pleasure in chastising.

Yes, Robert had been wrong to take Derrick’s money, but couldn’t he show a little compassion? She wondered how much of his unbending attitude had more to do with her past actions than with Robert’s thievery.

He had been dreaming of and dreading this moment for two long years. Against his will, he noticed those heavenly eyes of hers sparkle as her temper rose, making her even more beautiful, more desirable. His inappropriate observations annoyed him, making his next words clipped and terse.

“By your own admission, and your brother’s, he committed a crime—a felony. What more do I need to understand?” He opened the folder on his desk again, dismissing her.

“Robert’s sorry.”

He laughed without humor. “I’m sure he is, now that he’s been caught.”

She was favored with another of his piercing gazes. And somehow resisted the almost irrepressible urge to run as fast and as far from him as her legs could carry her. Even after two years, he still unnerved her completely while he seemed completely unaffected by seeing her again. No, that wasn’t true. He was angry, but not at her brother.

“He knows what he did was wrong.”

“Well, that’s very touching, but it doesn’t replace my $100,000, does it?”

He was tired of talking about her brother and would much rather talk about her. What had she done in the two years they had been apart? Had she missed him? Had she second-guessed and third-guessed her fateful decision that had ruined both of their lives? Had she spent sleepless nights wondering where he was and whom he was with? He hoped so. Because against his better judgment, he had thought about her often—about the satisfying relationship they could and should have been enjoying during that time, if only she hadn’t destroyed things between them.

He was disheartened to learn that despite her betrayal, she still had the power to move him and make him want to rewrite their story to his satisfaction. Why couldn’t they turn back the clock and be meeting coincidentally for the first time? Why did they have to be enemies by virtue of their past relationship?

She remembered him as caring, compassionate and passionate. He had made her feel as if she were the most important person in the world to him. He had made her want to lose herself in him. He had both thrilled and frightened her. Where had that Derrick Chandler gone? Had she somehow destroyed him? If she had, why did that thought disturb her so much?

“I have a lot of work to do.”

He needed to get her out of here before he made a complete fool of himself. He didn’t like where his memories were leading him or how hard he had to fight to keep himself from touching her. She had nearly ruined his life, and he shouldn’t want anything to do with her, should he?

“We’ll pay you back.”

He sighed fully before giving her his full attention again. “When?”

“As soon as we can.” At his dubious look she nearly shouted, “You don’t need the money. You don’t even miss it!”

“That’s not the point.”

The coldest eyes she had ever encountered locked on hers. She forced herself not to retreat from his frigid gaze—she knew from past experience he could utterly melt a woman’s heart and resistance without even trying. After all this time, he still unnerved her. He made her feel completely raw and vulnerable.

“So, what is the point?”

“Your brother took something that belonged to me. No one does that without suffering the consequences—no one.”

The darkening of her eyes let him know that his reference to their relationship was not lost on her.

“How can you be so heartless?”

“Look, I didn’t ask your brother to embezzle funds from me, and I didn’t ask you to come here today, pleading with me to show mercy to someone who should be—no, who will be—prosecuted.”

Why didn’t she leave and stop torturing him with her very presence? Lord, what had he done in his life to deserve this?

“I don’t know what else to say.” She closed her eyes as if seeking divine intervention.

Unable to bear staring at her beauty another second, he swiveled his chair to look out the huge wall-to-wall windows. “You can show yourself out.”

She quickly weighed telling him the real reason Robert had embezzled from him. It had nothing to do with gambling, as he had suggested. If he knew Robert’s actions were motivated out of love, not greed, would it change his attitude? Would the truth soften his hard heart? She didn’t want to bare her soul to him, but if it would save her brother, she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Won’t you please just listen to me?” She faced the back of his head. “Robert’s not what you think. He took the money because…”

He swiveled in his chair and held up a hand to forestall the remainder of her explanation. He’d had enough and needed her to leave.

“Alesha, I don’t care why Robert took the money—all that matters is that he’s an embezzler! Nothing you have to say will change that or make me change my mind about pressing charges against him. I’ve heard you out, now goodbye.”

She quickly stood, realizing she was wasting her time. There was no use in trying to appeal to his better nature. His words made that perfectly clear and she had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of watching her beg.

She snatched up her purse. “What happened to you? How did you become so cold?”

“I am what people like you have made me.”

God, she was torturing him. Her very presence tormented him; yet she also made him feel like he hadn’t felt in a long, long time, and he was angry and unsettled by that.

“You are what you want to be.” She was angry with herself and with her absurd reaction to seeing him again. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.” She turned and walked toward the door.

“Alesha?”

He spoke her name softly, almost caressingly. She felt it run down her spine like soothing, exciting fingers of desire—the sensation stopped her in her tracks. She prayed he would stop being so informal with her because the way he said her name—intimately, for her alone—was destroying her. How could a man’s voice stroke her in forbidden places so forcefully that she wanted nothing more than to be utterly immersed in him?

She was about to walk out. However, despite his better judgment, he didn’t want her to go. What was it about Alesha Robinson that had always sent his blood simmering and then, just as quickly, boiling out of control?

She turned turbulent eyes on him. “We don’t have anything else to say to each other.”

“You started this, Alesha.” He arrogantly lifted an eyebrow before deliberately adding, “And I’m going to finish it.”

“We’re done.”

She turned to leave again, not just because he annoyed and angered her, but because there was something about Derrick Chandler that was setting off small explosions of awareness within her entire body. Her legs felt wobbly and her heart ached for something that had once been within her grasp and now seemed light-years away. She needed some air; she had to get out of here before she made a complete fool of herself.

“What if I told you that I wouldn’t press charges against your brother?” His unexpected words halted her departure.

Had she heard him correctly? She turned and her puzzled gaze encountered his.

“What did you say?”

“I think you heard me.”

“Don’t toy with me.”

An arrogant half smile turned up the corners of his mouth at her chastising tone.

“I never play, unless I choose the game and am assured of victory.”

She believed him. He was a man used to getting his way—always, except once with her. She slowly walked back until she was standing in front of his desk again.

“So you’re serious about letting Robert off the hook?”

“Yes.”

Something in his tone worried her, yet she stood her ground. She had the feeling she would regret her next question, but she had to ask it.

“What do you want in return?”

He stood and slowly walked until he was standing in front of her, so close that their bodies were almost touching. She resisted a strong impulse to turn and run or take the few steps necessary to bring them breast to breast. She faced him unwaveringly as she waited apprehensively for his response.

His eyes roamed over her from head to toe. His blatant inspection made her feel as if she were a piece of prime meat he was preparing to devour with that wicked mouth of his. Her heart began to beat erratically, not from fear, but from another emotion just as strong.

“Something only you can give me.”

“Which is what?” She tilted her head up his tall frame, staring at him uneasily.

He continued to subject her to his slow scrutiny, his eyes lingering long on her moist, slightly parted lips, before lifting to meet her eyes once again. His thorough examination was more disquieting than anything she could have imagined he would say. However, his next words proved her wrong.

“I want you,” he answered truthfully.


Chapter 2

He was unblinking and serious as he continued staring into her huge, horrified eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he laughed out loud at her apparent shock. He knew his declaration was the last thing she had expected to hear—it was honestly the last thing he had expected to utter.

She didn’t make a move as his brief laughter reverberated in the quiet office before silence returned. He said nothing further and she was unable to respond. Instead, she stared at him unblinkingly, a hand slowly going to her suddenly constricted throat while her heart thudded loudly.

When she finally found her voice it was hushed and strained. “You can’t be serious!”

“Can’t I?”

She searched his face for signs that he was being facetious, yet found none. Still, he had to be joking. Her other hand moved to her throbbing temple and she tried to laugh dismissively—she couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“I must have misunderstood you.”

“Did you?” His piercing eyes studied her face carefully.

“Did you say that you want…me?” She forced herself to repeat his ridiculous statement.

“You understand me correctly.”

“What do you mean by want?” As she articulated the question, she was petrified of his response.

“Want. A transitive verb meaning to desire, to have need for, to crave.”

Every word he used to describe his meaning brought vivid pictures to her mind. She swallowed hard to dispel the lump that had rapidly risen in her throat, but to no avail. She stared at the man in front of her, amusement still twinkling in his eyes. Yet, underneath the levity lurked something else—a seriousness that terrified her.

“Are you saying you expect me to…you expect us to…that you want…”

She couldn’t force herself to finish that sentence.

“I want you to marry me.”

“Marry you?” She sank into the chair she had vacated earlier.

“What did you think I meant?” He studied her distraught face carefully. “Alesha, you didn’t think I wanted us to live together in sin, did you?”

“Why do you want to marry me?” She needed a cold compress for her head.

“Because I need a wife.” He reclined against his desk.

“You need a wife?” She paused before continuing. “Why?”

“According to my campaign manager, it would be good for me to be seen as a family man, and having a wife would equip me with a full-time hostess and date.”

He took no pleasure in reiterating Cam’s earlier words. Although seeing the woman who had single-handedly ruined his life two years ago in acute distress was very gratifying, indeed.

“How romantic.”

Her dry tones made his eyebrow rise slightly—he had no clue how she managed to be sarcastic at a time like this.

“You once made it clear that you didn’t want romance from me. Has that changed?”

“Do you always do what others tell you?” She deliberately sidestepped his previous question.

“Never.” He firmly shook his head.

“Then why start now?”

She couldn’t marry him—or anyone else—under these circumstances. The very idea was absurd!

“I’ve already answered that question.” His face was unreadable.

“Have you?”

Of course, he didn’t tell her that until she had walked through his office door, he had no intention of agreeing to Cam’s suggestion. Even having put the proposal on the table, he couldn’t believe he had done so. Yet, there had always been something about her—something that sparked a chord inside him. He was dismayed to learn his reaction to her hadn’t dissipated with the time they had spent apart—time she had forced them to spend apart, he angrily went over in his mind. Despite his better judgment, he still wanted her, and this time he was determined to have her—all of her.

“You don’t even like me.”

She waited for him to respond but he remained silent. Slowly, he smiled without humor and neither denied nor confirmed her observation. Lord, she wished she had never come here today! She had thought, prayed, that time would have healed old wounds. However, it was painfully apparent it had not. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her, but if that was true, why was he suggesting that they get married?

“‘Like’ is irrelevant, Alesha.”

“How can you say that? How can you suggest that we get married?”

“I told you why already.”

He sighed, his tone implying he had no desire to explain his reasons to her again or to justify them to himself.

She lowered her aching head into her hands and willed herself to wake up from this nightmare. However, when she raised her head again, the man in front of her had not vanished, as she had hoped. Rather, his presence was undeniable as he watched her closely.

“You’re serious.”

“I am.” He nodded affirmatively.

“Is this about revenge?” She articulated the only possibility that made any sense to her.

“It’s about fate, Alesha.”

“Fate?”

Her disdainful, soft echoing of his single prophetic word caused a slight clinching of his jaw—or did she imagine that?

“Yes.”

There was uncomfortable silence as each tried to guess what the other was thinking. Each one of them would have been surprised to realize their feelings were more in sync than not. Since parting, they had been destined to come to this point and now they were here. Where their lives ended up from here was a mystery to them both.

“If I agree to your proposal, what do you expect?”

She couldn’t believe she was actually contemplating his unorthodox proposition. However, she didn’t have a viable alternative—not if she wanted to save her brother.

“Model behavior, public affection. There’ll be a great deal of publicity and we will have to appear happily married and very much in love.”

Intense dread spread throughout her entire soul as he rattled off his requirements for a wife as if he were reading from a shopping list. He seemed so hard—had she done that to him? Somehow she knew she had and that hurt more than anything.

“And privately?” She stared into those cool gray eyes of his.

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

His mocking smile showed that he knew exactly what she referred to. He was getting immense pleasure in needling her.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it on a sigh she elaborated, “This will be a marriage in name only?”

“No, it will not.”

She stood up at that, her chest heaving rapidly. “You can’t expect me to…for us to…” Her voice trailed off, unable to finish that sentence.

“I can, and I do.” His eyes swept appreciatively over her slender, shapely body.

“This is ridiculous, and I’m a fool for even considering your absurd proposition!” She turned and walked rapidly toward the door.

She had a right to be angry at his suggestion. He would have been disappointed if she weren’t. He could have picked up the phone and had ten women in his office within a matter of minutes, willing to do whatever he wanted. But he didn’t want any other woman. He wanted Alesha. Damn her, he always had. He didn’t want to desire her, but he couldn’t help it any more than he could help breathing. She intrigued him and he wanted the chance she had denied them both two years ago—to get to know each other better, intellectually and intimately. And, God help him, he didn’t care that he was literally blackmailing her to get that opportunity.

He knew he was treading on dangerous ground—he also knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop himself. He craved Alesha, and this time he was going to do whatever it took to get her and to make her admit that she wanted him, as well. He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on why her desiring him was of the utmost importance to him.

“You’re a smart woman, Alesha.” His words halted her progress toward the door. “I think you know this is the only way to save your brother from a sure conviction and a lengthy prison term.”

She slowly retraced her steps to stand several feet away from him and tried one last time to reason with him. “Mr. Chandler…”

“Derrick.”

“Mr. Chandler.” At her refusal to use his first name, she received another one of his mocking smiles, which she had quickly grown to hate. “We’re virtually strangers. How can you expect me to marry you and become your wife in every sense of the word?”

“First of all, we are hardly strangers, Alesha. Secondly, when you grow a little older and a little wiser, you’ll realize a lot of people do things that they don’t want to do every day because their survival or the survival of those closest to them requires it.”

“Is that supposed to make your ridiculous offer easier to accept?”

“You might surprise yourself and actually enjoy being married to me.” He silently promised himself that would be the case.

She glared at him. “Never!”

“Never say never, Alesha.”

He pushed away from the desk and walked over to stand inches from her. Reaching out his hand, he trailed a finger lightly down her soft cheek, and he nearly groaned at the contact he had longed for since she had first entered his office.

She shuddered at his touch. He merely smiled before his finger moved to trace the outline of her lower lip, causing her flesh to tingle uncontrollably—and not from revulsion. His intense gaze mesmerized her and she was unable to step away, even when he removed his finger from her face. Ravenous eyes slowly, carefully studied every inch of her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

It was difficult to take in enough air to properly expand her lungs. Where his fingers had lightly touched, she burned and yearned for something forbidden. The spicy scent of his aftershave wafted up to her nostrils, causing her mouth to water. Despite her qualms, she wanted to be pressed close to his hard body and feel his strong arms around her.

She remembered how those lips had felt against hers and longed to see if her memories were accurate. She swayed toward him slightly, and he smiled even more, yet he made no further attempt to touch her, much to her dismay.

His inaction and her bizarre reaction to him cautioned her to get as far away from him as possible, but her limbs refused to obey the silent command. What was the matter with her? Was he hypnotizing her? Why didn’t she turn and run away?

As his eyes admired her beauty, he knew exactly how she felt—he felt the same way, too. It didn’t make any sense. This strong attraction between them was the last thing he needed, yet here it was, and he was absolutely helpless to do anything about it, except try to assuage it in hopes of finally purging it forever.

He continued his perusal, eyes moving to the soft curls of her hair, which was pulled away from her face by a clasp. He longed to free the soft tresses he knew would be smooth and silky. Her face showed the barest traces of makeup, yet her type of beauty didn’t require any artificial enhancements. Her brown eyes were distraught, her smooth brown skin begged to be touched, her lightly tinted full lips were made for kissing—an invitation he had accepted often in the past and almost consented to now. The bulky sweater she wore hid her attributes from his piercing gaze, yet he knew from experience that beneath it was a curvaceous, beautiful body that he was certain would give him the most intense pleasure.

She could barely breathe. His eyes thoroughly destroyed her equilibrium as they sensuously appraised her. She didn’t allow herself to speculate on his thoughts—knowing instinctively that they would disturb her more than his blatant perusal did. She felt hot, uncomfortable and something else she refused to put a name to.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Alesha, but then you’ve always known that, haven’t you?” His voice hardened perceptibly as his hand moved up to cup the side of her face, his lips mere inches from hers.

“How dare you!”

His condescending tone propelled her into action. She pushed his hand away from her face and moved several steps back, placing much-needed distance between them. She silently willed her wayward pulse to return to normal—impossible until she was no longer in his presence.

“You’ll find that I dare quite a lot.”

Silently, he promised himself he would taste those lips again soon enough. For, try as she might to find another way, his was the only course of action she could take to save her brother. He knew that and so did she. He was certain she would agree to his terms.

“What makes you so sure I will be around you long enough to realize anything about you?”

“Because your brother’s life is in your hands. I think you’ll do anything to save him—even marry me.”

She was tempted to tell him to go to hell and take his demented proposal with him. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn’t a question of whether she could live with his unreasonable proposal, but rather whether she could live with herself if she didn’t even try. This was the only way to save the two people she loved most in this world.

He walked back behind his desk and sat down in his chair. He knew she loved her brother and would do anything to get him out of this horrible situation—her presence here was evidence of that. However, maybe this was too high a price for her to pay. But could she live with herself if she didn’t try to help him? Could she live with herself if she did?

“If I agree to marry you, why can’t it be a marriage in name only?” To her horror, Alesha blurted out a question that made it obvious she was considering his offer.

All she had to do was take one look at him to answer her own question. Derrick Chandler was a handsome, virile man. He wouldn’t go without a woman for days, let alone months—he would never have to. Besides, their past relationship wouldn’t allow him to marry her only for show. He wanted what she had denied him—of that, she was certain.

“Alesha, I expect our marriage to be real, because that’s the way it has to be.”

“Why?” She grudgingly admitted, “You’re a handsome man. You can have any woman you want. Why me?”

“Thank you for the compliment.” He smiled. “I’m running for public office. I can’t be married to you and then be seen around town with other women.” He felt compelled to add, “And I have no intention of living the life of a monk.”

“But why me?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question.” He reclined in his chair, studying her distraught countenance.

“But…”

“I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

His statement was true. However, more to the point, he needed to get her out of his sight so that his pulse could return to normal. This reunion was more upsetting than he had anticipated. Why, after the hell she had put him through, did she make him feel like a damn schoolboy asking a girl out for a first date?

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to decide. If I haven’t heard from you by this time tomorrow, I’ll take that as a no and contact the police.”

He was proud his voice remained steady, when he felt anything but. He lowered his head and began to study the papers on his desk once again, totally ignoring her.

She opened her mouth to try to convince him to give up this ridiculous idea, but closed it again, realizing the futility of that gambit. He had set his terms and the next move was up to her. Without another word, she turned and left, slamming the door forcefully behind her.

He leaned back in his chair and let out his breath on a loud sigh. Tense fingers loosened his tie a bit. She hadn’t left a moment too soon. Why had seeing her again affected him so profoundly? It was because he hadn’t been with a woman in a while—that was it. That had to be it.

He shook his head in satisfaction and returned his eyes to the manila folder on his desk. After a few seconds, he gave up trying to concentrate on anything other than anxiously awaiting Alesha’s return tomorrow, even though he already knew what her answer would be.



Alesha entered her mother’s home and forced herself to appear happy and carefree, even though her heart was heavy, laden with the ultimatum Derrick Chandler had just issued to her a few hours earlier. Despite the dark cloud of gloom that hung over her, she could not risk letting her mother know she was upset—her mom had already had one heart attack a year and a half ago. Alesha would make sure she didn’t find out about the events currently transpiring in her children’s lives.

“Mom?” She searched for her mother as she walked through the house, throwing her coat onto a chair in the hallway.

“I’m in here, darling.”

Following her mother’s voice, Alesha made her way toward the bedroom. Once there, she was extremely glad to see that, for once, her mother was taking her doctor’s advice, reclining in bed, though she was fully dressed.

Alesha walked over and kissed her mother’s cheek warmly before perching lightly on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, darling.” Barbara Robinson smiled as her daughter eyed her carefully.

Alesha marveled at what a beautiful lady her mother was. At age fifty-six, her black hair was sprinkled with gray and was cut short, attractively framing her oval face. Alesha smiled lovingly at her and silently vowed she would do everything in her power to make sure her mother stayed healthy and happy.

“What have you been up to today, dear?”

“Just the usual.” She smiled. “Have you been following doctors’ orders?”

“Yes, dear. I’ve been behaving.” Barbara rolled her brown eyes heavenward. “Honestly, I don’t know how much more rest and relaxation I can stand.”

“Mother…”

“I know. I know.” Barbara sighed heavily and then smiled slightly.

“You just continue to be a good girl, and Bobby and I will be around to make sure that you do.” Alesha grasped her hand and surreptitiously took her pulse.

Before her mother could respond, the front door opened and closed and Robert’s voice called out, “Mom? Alesha?”

“We’re in here, Bobby.” Alesha walked over to the bedroom door.

Seconds later her brother found them. He was about two inches taller than Alesha, though they both possessed the same café-au-lait coloring. Entering the bedroom, he bent down and placed an affectionate kiss on his mother’s forehead, brought out a beautiful bouquet of colorful flowers from behind his back and handed them to her. Alesha noted and engraved in her memory the happy look on her mother’s face. She would do anything to keep her that way forever.

“For the most beautiful lady in the world.” He smiled as he straightened to stand beside the bed.

“They’re lovely. Thank you.” Barbara brought the bouquet to her nose and sniffed appreciatively.

“Let me get you a vase for them.” Alesha took the flowers from her mother’s hands and glanced pointedly at Robert, silently communicating that he should follow her.

“Is there anything sinful to eat in the kitchen?” Robert’s brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Well, you know I’m not allowed,” Barbara complained, “but, there is some chocolate cake.”

“Perfect!” Robert smacked his lips in anticipation.

“Mother, what are you doing with a cholesterol-filled chocolate cake?” Alesha quickly returned from the doorway to glance at her mother disapprovingly.

“Relax, darling. I didn’t eat any. Antonia came by today and left it. I couldn’t turn her down, now, could I?”

“I suppose not.” Alesha sighed before adding, “I’ll be sure to take it with me when I leave—just to remove the temptation.”

“Sorry, Mom, but you know how she is.” Robert smiled sympathetically.

“I do, indeed.”

“Don’t you two start ganging up on me.” She wagged her finger at them good-naturedly. “Come on and get your cake.” Alesha pushed her brother ahead of her out of the room.

Robert’s eyes focused on the cake sitting on the counter. “Mmm, this looks great!”

When the door was safely shut behind them, Alesha spoke slowly and calmly, “I went to see Derrick Chandler today.”

“What?” He whirled to face her.

“Shh! I don’t want Mom to hear you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but firm.

“Why did you go see him? I thought you were going to stay out of this.” He’d lowered his voice, yet his tone remained angry.

“You decided that, not me.” She filled a vase with water. “I had to see if I could make him listen to reason.”

“Did you?” He knew the answer before she replied.

Turning her back on him to cut a slice of cake, she replied cryptically, “In a way.”

Robert walked around to stand in front of her, placing a finger under her chin and lifting her eyes level with his own. “What exactly does that mean?”

“He agreed not to press charges against you.” She hoped he would leave it at that for now.

“If…” He knew there had to be an if.

She gave him his cake, took a deep breath and released it slowly before replying, “If I agree to marry him.”

Robert nearly dropped the plate onto the countertop. He stared at his sister, horrified.

When he spoke, his voice was barely controlled. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

She walked away from him to stare out the kitchen window. “I wish I was, but you know I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“Damn him!”

Alesha quickly walked to his side and placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Be quiet! Remember, Mom is just down the hall. We can’t let her know what’s going on.”

When he spoke next, his tone was lower, but just as enraged. “I hope you told him what he could do with his idiotic proposal!”

She remained silent, lowering her gaze from his. Robert’s heart skipped a beat at her demeanor.

“Alesha, you didn’t agree to this insanity, did you?” He watched her closely.

She raised her eyes and responded truthfully, “He’s given me until tomorrow to decide.”

“There’s nothing to decide. There’s no way I’m going to allow you to sell yourself to him to save me! I knew what I was doing when I took that money. I’ll suffer the consequences for it.”

“Bobby, even though you were wrong to embezzle from him, I won’t let you go to jail if there’s anything I can do to stop it.”

“I won’t let you do this.” He was equally unyielding.

“You can’t stop me.” She shook her head. “If Mother finds out what you did and you’re sent to prison, the shock would kill her—you know that.”

“But, Alesha…”

“No buts.” She placed silencing fingers on his lips. “I can’t risk losing either of you. If that means I have to marry Derrick Chandler, then I’ll marry him.” She wished she felt as calm as she sounded.

“You’re a wonderful sister, but I will not allow you to marry someone you don’t love to save me.”

He turned and left the kitchen. She ran after him, but reached the front door only in time to see his car pulling away.

She closed the door and sighed. Her decision was already made—it had been the very second Derrick had made her the offer. She would do whatever it took to save her loved ones, even if it meant sacrificing herself in the process.



Cam’s mouth was wide open in shock. “What did you say?”

Derrick laughed heartily before reiterating, “I’m getting married.”

“To whom? When? How?” Cam shook his head vigorously as he fought to comprehend his friend’s unexpected announcement.

“To Alesha Robinson and very soon.” He chuckled at Cam’s understandable confusion.

“Who?” He frowned as he racked his brain to put a face to the name he instinctively knew he should recognize.

“Robert Robinson’s sister.” Derrick played with the slender stem of his wineglass.

“Robert Robinson?” Then leaning closer to Derrick and lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, he asked, “The dude who embezzled from your campaign?”

“The one and only.” Derrick nodded before bringing the glass of wine to his lips.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Cam’s question was relayed so earnestly that Derrick couldn’t refrain from laughing out loud again. He had laughed more today than he had in a very long time.

“You’re the one who said I needed a wife.” His gray eyes twinkled with merriment.

“I know, but…”

“Cam, this is perfect.” His countenance was that of a kid set loose and given free rein in a candy shop. “It’s a business arrangement, no emotional entanglements—just a plain, simple agreement that I will end once it’s served its purpose.”

It was also an opportunity he had waited two years for, a chance to exorcise the demons Alesha’s abrupt departure had left in her wake. He was certain once he had some answers, and maybe even a measure of retribution, he would be able to permanently purge the tenacious memories of their past association from his mind and heart once and for all.

“Which is what?”

“To help me get elected, of course.” Derrick sighed loudly. Boy, was Cam being dense tonight!

Cam’s eyes took on a seriousness that was relayed by his next words. “Sometimes when we think we have something figured out, it takes on a life of its own and goes in directions we never expected.”

“What am I going to do with you?” Derrick raised his eyes heavenward in exasperation at his friend’s prophetic statement. “If I don’t do what you suggest, I never hear the end of it, and if I take your advice, I get prophecies of doom and gloom.”

“When I suggested marriage, I wasn’t referring to the farce you’re contemplating.” Cam took a much-needed gulp of his wine.

“Never again.” Derrick adamantly shook his head.

“Derrick, you’re my best friend. I’d like to see you happy.” He lowered his glass to the table.

“I appreciate that, buddy, and I am happy. I’m also going to marry Alesha—on my terms.”

“She’s agreed to this?”

“Not yet, but she will tomorrow.” His voice was confident as he fingered the slender stem of his wineglass.

“How can you be so sure?” He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was more to his friend’s inane proposal than met the eye.

“She doesn’t have a choice. It’s the only way to save her brother.”

“She might surprise you. Maybe she’ll decide the price is too high to pay.” Cam played devil’s advocate.

“She won’t.” His short response was delivered confidently.

“Why won’t she?”

“As I said before, she doesn’t have a choice.” Derrick hadn’t noticed his tone turn somewhat cold.

“I get the feeling you know this lady—very well. Have you met her before?”

“Two years ago.” Derrick silently cursed himself for slipping up in front of Cam, of all people.

“Wait a minute.” His eyes reflected understanding. “Is this the same Alesha you dated briefly?”

“She is.” He didn’t see any reason in denying it.

“The one you abruptly stopped seeing, which sent you into one of the longest and foulest depressed moods of your life?”

“You’re exaggerating.” Derrick took a suddenly much-needed swig of his drink. Cam wasn’t exaggerating. If anything, he was being kind.

“No, I’m not.” Intense eyes bore into his. “You wouldn’t talk about her—not even to me.”

“There was nothing to say.”

“Really? I didn’t believe you then and I don’t now.”

“Cam, we dated once or twice, it didn’t work out and we ended it.” He silently cursed the nerve in his jaw that was pulsing erratically.

“We both know there’s more to it than that.” He refused to be silenced. “I was there, remember? I know what happened to you shortly after the breakup.” At Derrick’s continued silence, Cam asked, “Are you out for revenge?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cam’s astute observations and Derrick’s own contradictory feelings as far as Alesha was concerned made him uneasy, although his words appeared confident.

“I think you should reconsider this.”

“There’s nothing to reconsider. I’m going to marry Alesha and that’s that.” Derrick’s tone was firm and final.

“Derrick, are you sure…”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“How do you plan to pull this off?” He knew when it was useless to try to reason with his friend, and this, unfortunately, was one of those times. “Alesha will be in the limelight all the time. I assume you realize the public must perceive your marriage as real.”

“Of course.” Derrick shook his head in agreement. “In public, we’ll appear as a couple very much in love. You, Alesha, Robert and I are the only ones who will know about our arrangement.”

“And what about privately?” Cam leaned forward, studying his friend closely. “What do you expect, and—more importantly—want from Alesha privately?”

“Mr. Chandler, it’s time for you to take your place onstage.” Both men turned in the direction of the man who interrupted them.

“Certainly.”

Derrick smiled and stood, grateful to escape his friend’s last probing question.


Chapter 3

The following morning Derrick was engrossed in work when the intercom buzzed. Without being told, he knew who was here to see him and his heartbeat quickened.

“Yes?”

“Sir, Ms. Robinson is here to see you.”

“Please send her in.”

Standing, he walked over to the door seconds before it opened, admitting Alesha. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. He remained silent. This was her show.

She took a deep breath, released it and, before she lost her nerve, said, “I’ll marry you.”

“I see.”

“You don’t seem very surprised.” She raised an arched eyebrow.

He ushered her over to a chair in front of his desk and then perched on the edge. “I’m not. You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She didn’t try to hide the resentment in her voice before angrily lowering her gaze from his. She was uncomfortable with him so close and wished he would move away. Yet, even as the thought entered her mind, she realized she would have to get used to being in much closer proximity than this to him—after all, they would soon be husband and wife. At that thought, she shuddered visibly.

“Are you cold?” His hand rose toward her.

“No.”

Sensing her discomfort, he dropped his hand to his side, stood up, walked behind his desk and sat down. He smiled slightly as she breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“Do you have any questions?” He leaned back in his chair and studied her somber expression.

“Such as?”

“In case you’ve forgotten in the time we’ve been apart, my age, religion, likes, dislikes, etc.”

“Tell me whatever you want.”

He smiled slightly at her tone, which infuriated her. Why did he always act as if she amused him? He was so frustrating!

“To refresh your memory, I’m thirty-six, born and raised in Washington. I was an only child. My parents are deceased. My favorite food is Italian.” He rambled off facts she was mortified to realize she still remembered.

“I’ll make a mental note of all that.”

“You do that.” He leaned forward. “Let’s discuss specifics, shall we?”

What he really wanted to do was touch her—to experience the softness of her skin for a much longer duration than yesterday’s brief contact. He wanted to release her bountiful mane from its clasp, bury his face in the feathery soft tresses and see firsthand if they were as silky and soft as he remembered. He wanted to devour those pouting, luscious lips…

“All right, but I have one condition.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re in no position to make any demands.”

His arrogance was born out of desperation rather than disdain. He didn’t want to be cold with her, but it was either that or make a complete fool of himself by acting on his longings.

The hair on her neck stood on end at his insufferable tone. However, her voice was measured when she responded. “I realize that, but I really must insist on this one.”

“What is it?”

“My mother must believe our marriage is real. I don’t want to upset her.”

Did she imagine the softening of his features at her sincere confession? That was ridiculous. He hated her and marriage to him would be his ultimate revenge.

Much to her surprise, he agreed. “Fair enough. Everyone has to believe our marriage is real—that includes your mother.” At her continued silence, he said, “Anything else?”

“Yes.” She paused, trying to find the best way to phrase her next request.

“Well…” He drummed his fingers on the desktop, not out of frustration or impatience, but to keep them from trying to touch her.

“I’d like us to be engaged for a few months so that my mother will buy our relationship.”

His fingers immediately stilled. “Impossible.”

“Why not?”

“I have a little over a year until the election. We must be married as soon as possible.” He paused, considering a compromise. “I can give you a month at the most.”

What he didn’t tell her was that he doubted he could wait longer than that to quench his burning desire for her—he prayed he wouldn’t go mad trying. Damn her and him! Why, after all that had transpired between them in the past, did she still have the power to unnerve him the way no other woman ever had?

“This will never work, you know.” She shook her head.

“It will work.” He smiled confidently. “Wait and see.”

“If you say so.” Her tone belied her skepticism.

“Do I need to remind you what I expect from this marriage?” His gray eyes bore into hers.

Nervously wringing her hands in her lap, she warily met his gaze. “No.”

“You’re positive?” He stood and walked slowly toward her until he reached her side.

“I’m positive.” She also stood to be on a more level plane with him.

“Don’t say you didn’t know what to expect.”

“Is there anything else?” She unflinchingly met his determined gaze.

“Just three things.”

He motioned for her to resume her seat, which she did reluctantly. He perched on the desk in front of her. He wished she would stop looking so sad, as if she were being handed a death sentence.

“What are they?”

“First of all, I don’t know whether you’re on birth control or not, but if not, you will need to start immediately.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his intimate demands. How could he expect her to discuss such things with him! His words made her fully aware of what their relationship would be, and all she could do was stare at him in embarrassment.

“Since this is only a business arrangement, neither of us needs or wants any unnecessary complications.”

She found her voice and whispered resentfully, “Why is it always the woman’s responsibility?”

“Well, I can’t speak for other men, but as for me, I dislike the feel of a condom. I don’t want anything to come between me and…”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She blushed hotly at his blatant admission, wanting to get off this subject as soon as possible. She reached up to touch her suddenly constricted throat.

He smiled at her as his eyes moved down her face to rest on her slightly quivering, espresso-colored lips, before traveling slowly back up to encounter her distraught eyes, and his smile deepened. However, there was something else present in her eyes—a deep longing, an expectation, a need. He saw it there, silently admitting that it echoed similar smoldering feelings within him.

She really was delicious. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy being married to her very much—while it lasted. He forced himself to mentally add the last observation and forcefully reminded himself that theirs would only be a brief alliance to purge her from his life once and for all. He didn’t want or need anything more permanent.

“What’s number two?” Her voice was breathless as she brought a hand up to her suddenly burning cheeks.

“It concerns your job.” His tones took on an ominous ring.

“What about it?”

“You’ll have to give it up.”

Her eyes changed from wary to disbelieving to angry as she glared at him. He felt an absurd desire to pull her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be all right.

“Give up nursing? Why?”

“The main reason for this marriage is so that I will have a ready-made hostess. You’ll have to be available at a moment’s notice. That’s hardly possible for someone in your profession.”

“I love my work. I don’t suppose that matters to you.”

“I understand, and I know that you’re very good at it.” The sympathy in his voice was overshadowed by the sacrifice he was asking her to make.

“How do you know that?”

“Have you forgotten that I saw you in action when we first met at the accident scene?”

She remembered everything about their intense first meeting. It had been a multivehicle accident that both had stopped to help at. He had been strong, unshakable at the sight of blood and torn flesh and had been very receptive to taking orders from a woman.

“No, I haven’t forgotten.”

He had watched the play of emotions flit across her beautiful face. He wanted to ask if she remembered every detail of their breakup, too, but that was unnecessary. Finally having her in his presence again, he wanted to know why she had shut him out of her life. To this day, her rejection still rankled him, and that was one thing he was fighting tooth and nail to keep from her.

“What else do I have to give up?”

“Are you agreeing to my second condition, or do we end this right here?” His hooded eyes watched her carefully.

“Yes, what’s your third condition?”

Her words should have thrilled him, yet instead they cut through him like a hot knife. He didn’t know why he had the urge to apologize to her or why her understandable unhappiness made him so unhappy. He reminded himself that this was only a business arrangement, not an emotional entanglement. Either she agreed to his terms, or he would call the deal off and have her brother prosecuted. He wasn’t forcing her to marry him. She had a choice—one he knew she wouldn’t take—but a choice nonetheless.

“My third condition is this.”

Unable to hold himself in check another second, he stood and slid one strong arm beneath her coat around her slender waist, pulling her closer as his other hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her lips toward his.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She pressed her hands against his solid chest, trying unsuccessfully to break free from his unwelcomed embrace.

“You’ll have to do better than this, or you won’t convince anyone that you’re madly in love with me.” He lowered his head toward hers.

She continued to struggle in vain. However, when his lips were mere inches from hers, one hand released her silky tresses from their confining clasp, allowing the shoulder-length tendrils to slide over his fingers as he pulled her mouth toward his. As he had known it would, her hair felt like silk against his fingers. His appreciative eyes swept her distraught face thoroughly.

“I prefer your hair loose, remember?”

“Mr. Chandler, I don’t care what you prefer.”

“Oh, but you will care.” His softly voiced promise caught in her throat as he once again instructed her to use his first name.

“No.” She strained against his ironclad embrace.

“You’ll say my name on moans of passion in just a few seconds.”

“Never.”

She knew her denial lacked believability because her voice was breathless, and a strange feeling began forming in her stomach at his nearness.

“We’ll see.”

Before she could respond, determined lips closed over hers in a strong kiss. His mouth was warm and inviting, not cold and repulsive as she had hoped it would be. She had known from past experience that his lips would feel like this—wonderful and vital. Days, months and years were swept away by his sensual mouth as it thoroughly refamiliarized itself with hers.

Her heart began to beat rapidly—not in fear, but in arousal. She moaned in protest to her thoughts and his actions, and her mouth parted slightly in shock and surrender.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He took full advantage of her surprise, sliding his tongue between her lips to slip into the honeyed recesses beyond. He continued to masterfully taste every centimeter, every tantalizing crevice of the bounty he had uncovered.

Her hands moved to his shoulders to push him away, yet stopped there, resting instead. Did she really want to escape? That simple yet complex question rolled around in her dazed mind. A hundred confusing sensations bombarded her entire being as Derrick continued his mind-shattering caresses. She hadn’t expected to be blown away by a simple kiss after two years. However, there was nothing remotely simple about Derrick’s kiss, or her disheartening responses to the masterful, sensual onslaught he was unleashing on her.

One of his hands slid languidly down her back to rest on her hip, pressing her closer against his hard length as his mouth continued to plunder hers. Her eyes were half closed, as sensation after sensation—each an awakening, each frightening and intensely pleasurable—began to overpower her self-proclaimed resentment of the man whose arms she was nearly melting into. The hands resting on his shoulders flexed and then tightened their grip as she resisted an almost irrepressible urge to entwine them around his neck and press herself even closer against his hard length.

Never in a million years would she have dreamed she would be in Derrick’s arms again, enjoying his kisses and caresses. Yet, here she was, wanting, almost reveling, in this intimate contact with a man she should hate for blackmailing her into marriage. She hadn’t bargained for this. She hadn’t expected to still be attracted to him physically. How could this be? Even as the question arose in her mind, she admitted that he was the only man who had ever elicited such thorough, satisfying, mind-boggling passion from her and, to her dismay, he had lost none of his skills when it came to arousing her hidden desires.

His lips slowly drew apart from hers, despite a slight moan of protest from her, and he huskily commanded, “Say my name.”

“No.”

Her voice was soft and tortured. For the life of her she didn’t know where the strength to articulate came from.

Her refusal made him pull her closer, until she felt every hard inch of his wonderful body pressed intimately, maddeningly against her own. Unapologetic hands slipped beneath her sweater to touch the satiny heated flesh of her back, and she thought she would die from something very close to rapture when he pulled her yet closer.

Playful lips nipped at hers before sliding down her jaw to burrow into her softly scented throat. She gasped as he raked his strong teeth across her skin, and then his tongue traced the outline of her collarbone before he raised his head to stare into her confused, dazed, passion-glazed eyes.

“Say my name.” As he softly repeated his previous command, one of his hands moved to her hair, his fingers entangling there.

He was as surprised as she looked at the shock of pleasure holding and kissing her elicited within him. It was as if the damnable time they had spent apart had never occurred. He pulled her mouth to within centimeters of his. His tongue skimmed her lips lightly before retreating again, refusing to give her what she wanted until she yielded to his demands.

“Say it.”

His warm breath intermingled with hers as the hand at her back moved to rest between her shoulder blades before sliding back down her satiny flesh. He needed to hear his name on her lips, whispered with passion before he muffled the sound with his ravenous, hungry mouth.

She closed her eyes briefly before acquiescing. She spoke so softly he thought he had imagined it.

“Derrick.”

“Again.” He softly kissed her quivering lips—lips that were as addictive as anything he had ever known.

“Derrick,” she reiterated on a sigh, and then on a moan, as he had foretold, as his lips and hands continued to lightly caress her. “Derrick.”

The last thing she saw was his smile—not of triumph, but of understanding—before her eyes closed once her mouth was finally, ravenously recaptured. He kissed her again and again and she prayed he would stop soon before she begged him never to. His lips were like a magnet, attracting her against her will, holding her mesmerized, unable to break away.

The last thing she wanted was to escape from this intensely pleasurable embrace. Her mind screamed out for her to put as much distance between them as possible, yet her body craved closer contact with his—much closer. How could she remotely tolerate kisses from a man who was single-handedly ruining her career and stealing her freedom? What in the name of God was wrong with her? She couldn’t begin to formulate an answer anymore than she could deny that she craved and enjoyed his kisses, almost to the point of self-destruction.

After endless, sweet minutes of torture, his firm, strong, warm lips dragged themselves from hers. She fought the urge to pull his mouth back to hers and gradually opened her confused, embarrassed eyes to find him staring at her with an unreadable expression. Her cheeks were warm, her lips were trembling, and she could just die from the embarrassment.

He smiled slightly, one of his fingers trailing over her quivering, moist lips as he huskily said, “I think our arrangement will be very profitable and pleasurable—for the both of us.”

She pushed away from him at his words, partly in anger and partly just needing to escape from his overpowering presence and from her own desires. She needed to get out of there! This time he let her go, and this time she nearly ran out the door, not stopping to look back—certain she would find him following her.

Had she turned to stare at him, she would have seen echoing arousal, disbelief and dismay etched on his handsome features. Her retreating pace accelerated until she was safely out of his maddening reach—for the moment.



A few days later, she sat beside Derrick in one of the most upscale jewelry shops in Washington. Even though she had insisted she didn’t want an expensive ring, he had been adamant that she would wear a ring to be marveled at, for appearances’ sake.

She hadn’t seen him since the devastating kisses in his office, yet the time apart had done nothing to ease her mind, nor squelch her anticipation of their next encounter. She didn’t know what was the matter with her or who she was becoming. Even more unnerving, when she was with him, she wasn’t sure she even cared.

“What about this one?” He held up a three-carat brilliant-cut diamond solitaire, set in a split band of platinum.

“It’s beautiful but…” She carefully took the exquisite ring from his fingers.

“But what?” He eyed her closely.

“It’s too expensive—all these rings are.”

She placed the exquisite ring back onto the black velvet cover on the table next to the matching wedding band, which was inset with a carat of diamonds halfway around it, and the man’s wedding band, which was a thick circle of brightly polished platinum with scrollwork over its surface.

“Nonsense.” He smiled at her assertion. “Besides, when this is all over, you’ll have something to sell that will bring you a nice piece of change.”

She turned hurt and angry eyes on him. When she spoke, her voice trembled slightly, “Why did you say that to me? You know I’m not marrying you for your money.”

The somewhat mocking smile on his face slowly faded as he realized he had hurt her. Part of him had meant to, but he derived no pleasure from the fact that he had succeeded. Instead he felt miserable about it. He wasn’t a cruel person and there was no reason for him to act like one.




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